


He Wasn't Broken Anymore

by Lyonzz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29701773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyonzz/pseuds/Lyonzz
Summary: Harry wasn't broken at the beginning, but he was when he started Hogwarts.Lucky for him, a certain Dark Lord took the challenge to fix him.✔Tomarry✔AU✔No Bashing✔ Author isn't native English speaker, so bear with me
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort
Comments: 2
Kudos: 133





	He Wasn't Broken Anymore

Harry wasn't broken.

At least not yet, his early years at the Dursleys were rough, sure, but he was still a child, still innocent, still whole.

But as time passed, he started to crack, just like his cousin would break his ribs or arms, just like his uncle would slash his belt in his back, leaving too many scars for a six year old.

When he was eight, Harry stopped talking. It didn't matter to him if he talked or not, no one believed him, and he always ended up beaten in the end, so it didn't matter.

By the time his Hogwarts letter came, Harry was so broken, that he expressed zero emotion at the sight.

Don't get him wrong, he knew he was special. Knew he could do things that no one could. But, was it worth getting his hopes up if, in the end, everything would work against him?

Besides, he didn't have a purpose in life, and never would have.

When Hagrid came, Harry didn't spoke a word, leaving the half-giant a little startled and not knowing what to do. He tried asking the Dursleys what happened, but they always answered the same thing.

“He stopped when he was eight, and stayed like this since then.”

Without options, Hagrid took Harry to buy his supplies anyway.

Harry still didn't talked, even when he got to the Hogwarts Express, even when a shy red-headed asked to share the compartment. He only looked throught the window, seeing the vast plains, the beautiful view.

Harry thought he could just stay in the express forever, until he saw the castle.

It was, definitely, the most beautiful place of the whole world, no doubt about that. With towers reaching the clouds, the ancient walls and its green grounds.

It was perfect.

When the Hat started talking to him, Harry still didn't respond, so he was placed in Slytherin.

He had no friends in his House, everyone avoided him like the plague, and he did the same in return. He didn't need anyone, never did.

It was, and always would be, him against the world, by himself.

The months passed and so did the determination of teachers to try and get him to talk, they just decided that it wasn't worth their time, and Harry was grateful for that. Besides, he was a good student, always with top marks and never causing trouble.

Christmas Eve brought Harry a detention by his teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts. He didn't know what he'd done wrong, but he learned early in life to not argue with others, especially adults, that only led to punishments.

When Voldemort revealed himself to Harry, the child wasn't scared. He understood that the Dark Lord wished him dead, not that he knew the reason, but he didn't have anything against him.

Voldemort talked for about fifteen minutes straight, saying how he despised the child, how everything was his fault, especially his lack of body, and how he would enjoy killing the boy.

When he stopped talking, the Dark Lord stared at Harry, waiting for an answer.

“Well? Would you like to say yours last words?”, his chilled voice carried through the room, but didn't affect Harry.

The boy only stared back at Voldemort, with eyes so empty and broken that the Dark Lord almost take a step back.

And with a hoarse whisper, due to the lack of use, Harry said his first words in four years.

“Do it.”

That made Voldemort take a step back. There was no emotion in his voice, in his eyes, there was absolutely nothing alive on the boy. His face didn't betray anything, a blank mask so perfectly put that it made him look like a doll.

But Voldemort knew what meant this type of mask, he used the same many years ago, and it meant nothing.

Voldemort couldn't help but feel connected to the boy in this moment, for the two of them were so alike, so broken.

So the Dark Lord made a decision that would change not only his life, but the lives of the entire Wizarding World.

“Come with me”, he said, stretching his hand.“Let me give you a purpose in this world. Let me show you the true colors hidden in the darkest depths of life.”

Voldemort voice was firm, his eyes shinning with determination, and Harry couldn't help but feel hope.

And, with only a second of hesitation, Harry grabbed the hand.

When Harry grabbed his hand, Voldemort made a silent vow to himself that he would fix the broken boy.

<¥>

Five years passed since that day. Voldemort regained his body with the Philosopher's Stone that he stole from Hogwarts years ago, and he spent the next two years training Harry, personally. 

Their communication was difficult at first, since Harry stopped talking as soon as they fled from the castle, but Voldemort would not give up. After the first year, Harry finally got back to talking, even if only to grunt his responses, but it was progress nonetheless. From then on, things only got better, and quicker, which pleased the Dark Lord immensely. Harry talked full sentences now, finally allowing the two wizards to hold a decent conversation. And after two years, Voldemort was satisfied with Harry's training, and ability to speak, that he decided that it was time to got back to work.

And so, the Dark Lord called back his Death Eaters to plan to take Wizarding Britain.

Harry was always by his side, always wearing his black mask over his face, finally finding his purpose in life.

Third year was nothing eventful, Voldemort still had to call all his followers and infiltrate the Ministry slowly.

Fourth year though, that's when the war started again. Dumbledore, somehow, got hear of his return, thing that Voldemort didn't want to be a know fact yet, and soon he discovered the treason of one of his Inner Circle, Severus Snape, and killed him on sight.

At the end of the year, during a extremely difficult raid, Harry got hit with a powerful Curse from an auror and Voldemort lost his temper, killing every enemy on the field. After that, he grabbed Harry and Appareted them to safety in the blink of an eye.

Voldemort, in Harry's opinion, was making too much of a fuss over nothing, the Blasting Curse only got his shoulder.

“My Lord, I'm fine”, he tried to reason, but winced when he tried to free his arm.

But Voldemort was having none of it and, after healing the teen's shoulder, grabbed his elbows and stared into his green eyes.

“What did I asked you to call me when we're alone?”, he asked softly, leading them down the hall, to their rooms.

Harry gave a small smile, breathing deeply.

“You asked for me to call you Tom.”

“Exactly”, the other smirked.

In fifth year was when the things got rough for real. Dumbledore and his Order were gaining strength too quickly for Voldemort's liking, but they had freed their Death Eaters from Azkaban, so the numbers were starting to even.

That's when their relationship started to get akward.

Harry, for growing up with his abusive relatives and closing himself to the world, didn't know his feelings yet, but the Dark Lord knew his own, and that was starting to create a turmoil in his head everyday. Tired of not knowing, Harry spoke his doubts to his Lord.

“Tom, I need your help.”

The Dark Lord put his reports away, sat with Harry on the couch and dropped his glamour to his real self, his human self.

“What is it, Harry?”

“I don't know what I'm feeling”, he took a deep breath, trying to relax his mind, “Everytime I'm near you, my heart beats too hard and too fast, I often get lost in your voice or your eyes, I find myself thinking that I want to be by your side at all times.”

Voldemort only smiled.

“This, my dear Harry”, he wrapped his arms around the boy shoulders, “This is love.”

<¥>

Two years passed, and their relationship only got better. After defeating for good the Order of the Phoenix, the Dark reign with an iron fist. Magical Britain cut every tie with the muggles, separating the two worlds for good. Muggleborns were taken from their parents as soon as they were born and traded for muggle children from orphanages. Dark creatures gained more rights and magic flourished once more.

The world was so good that rebellions were rare, but the few that had were soon take care of.

And in the bed of his lover, his Lord, his first friend, Harry finally thought that he wasn't broken, not anymore.


End file.
